


Overly Familiar

by SaucyWench



Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Return to Treasure Island (TV 1996)
Genre: Car Accidents, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-03-06 22:19:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13420791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaucyWench/pseuds/SaucyWench
Summary: Guess what time it is, kids?  It's time for the GatheringFiKi Winter Fandom Raffle Exchange!  That means prompt fills!Prompt 45 - Witch AUGo check it out![GatheringFiKi Prompt List]





	1. Chapter 1

Jim was coming out of the herb shop, juggling his purchases while he was trying to stuff his wallet into his back pocket, when he heard the squeal of car brakes followed by a sickening thud and a cry of pain.  He looked up, and he could see a car stopped in the street, but it wasn’t until he stepped closer that he saw the pedestrian on the ground in front of it. 

The driver, a woman with bleached hair and skin so pale she looked like she might faint, was stepping out of the car with the phone to her ear.  She was saying, “Send an ambulance!  I never saw him!  He stepped out between two cars!”

Jim tuned her out and hurried to the front of the car, sticking his wallet into his front pocket.  He knew basic first aid, but when he got a closer look he knew this was beyond his skills.  The pedestrian, a boy maybe in his late teens, was on his back.  One of his legs was bent at an angle, obviously broken below the knee, and the pants leg was soaked in blood.  As Jim watched, a crimson rivulet started toward the curb. 

Someone pushed past him, leaving Jim with the impression of curls and a whiff of sandalwood, and said, “I’m a healer.  Let me see.”

The crowd which was forming stepped back and everyone looked relieved to let someone else handle the problem.  Jim’s sense of relief was cut short when he heard the newcomer mutter, “Well, shit.”

Misgivings or not, the guy dropped to his knees beside the teen and stretched his hands out.  He ran them down the broken leg, murmured something under his breath, and rested his fingertips gently on the kid’s ankle. 

Jim’s ears popped when the spell started.  He could feel the magic building like a static charge in the air.  Different types of spells took different amounts of magic.  Healing something like the teenager’s injuries would take a lot of power.  The healer was trying his best, but he didn’t have the juice to fix the kid.  Jim might not know much beyond rudimentary first aid, but this was something he could do to help. 

He stepped forward and crouched next to the healer and murmured, “Do you really know how to help him?”

The guy cut a look at Jim, but didn’t stop what he was doing.  “Yeah.”

“My name’s Jim, and I’m a focus.”  He spat into his palm and held it out.  “Essence and assistance, freely offered.”

The guy gave him a surprised look before nodding.  “Ross, gladly accepted.”

Ross leaned forward and licked Jim’s palm before returning his attention to the teen.

Jim hadn’t been expecting the quick swipe of a warm tongue across his hand, but it made sense.  If Ross had the kid’s blood on his hand, it could have complicated the temporary bond.  Jim dropped his bag on the pavement and moved to stand behind Ross.  Skin to skin contact was best, so he rested his damp hand on the side of Ross’ neck before closing his eyes and concentrating. 

The magic came to him in a rush.  He always visualized it as flowing water, and he was the pipe to help channel it.  It came up from the ground, travelling up his legs to swirl and pool in his belly.  A mental nudge had it flowing up through his sternum, down his arm, and to Ross.  There it was slowed, and the magic spun around his fingers in cool eddies.  He opened his eyes and said, “Take it.”

Ross looked at him and nodded.  He narrowed his eyes in concentration. 

The resistance was gone.  As Jim watched, Ross’ eyes changed from warm brown into bright blue, glowing with borrowed power.  Jim knew his eyes would look the same.  Ross looked back at the kid and Jim focused on channeling the magic. 

It was second nature for Jim to be able to gather magic from the earth or nearby ley lines.  He could soak it up and store it, like wrapping a thread around a spool.  Then he could pull a bit out and focus it into a charm.  He made a comfortable living by storing small amounts of magic into redwood discs, selling them to witches so they could harness that energy in their spells.  It gave them access to magic they would not otherwise have, and he didn’t have to work directly with them.  It worked out for everyone. 

Jim hated doing something like this.  Working with people was complicated and messy, even with a bond as weak as the one he had with Ross now.  A stronger bond, one made with blood or sex, was longer lasting and could be used over distance.  He’d done that once before.  Never again. 

Ross made a gesture and the pull increased.  Jim swayed before leaning against Ross.  He felt a spark of concern flash through the bond, and said, “I’m fine.  Finish.”

The pull increased again, but Jim kept his balance.  It was taking magic faster than he could collect it now, and the draining sensation was making him queasy.  He tried to ignore it and concentrated on taking slow breaths. 

Then it was over.  Ross sat back on his heels and exhaled hard. 

“Is he okay?” Jim asked.

Ross nodded.  “He will be.  I couldn’t fix all the damage, but I got the bleeding stopped.  A few weeks and some physical therapy and he’ll be fine.” 

A ragged cheer went up from the crowd around them and the woman driver started crying.  There were sirens in the distance, but they were getting closer.  Ross smiled up at Jim and happiness bubbled through the bond.

Jim realized how intimate this was, with Ross kneeling at his feet.  They were leaning against each other, and Ross was a solid weight against his legs.  Jim lifted his hand away from Ross’ neck, breaking the tenuous magical connection.  A wave of fatigue washed over him, and he staggered back. 

Ross stood.  He must be as tired as Jim, but he still asked, “Are you okay?”

Jim nodded.  He looked Ross over, noting that the blue glow had faded back to brown eyes.  He also noted long legs and broad shoulders before giving himself a mental shake.  “I feel like I could sleep for a week.  How about you?”

“That took it out of me, but I’ll be fine.”  Ross reached out for Jim’s arm, stopping and pulling back before he made contact.  “Let me buy you a coffee?  It’s not every day I work with a familiar to save a leg.”

Jim knew the after effects of the bond could make them want physical closeness.  He knew that it was better to say no, walk away, and forget all about this.  He knew that use of the word familiar instead of focus meant Ross was a traditionalist, and traditional witches were nothing but trouble. 

Regardless of everything he knew, Jim smiled and nodded.  “I’d like that.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another prompt fill means you get another chapter. 
> 
> Prompt 77 - Songfic - Sam Smith - 'Too Good at Goodbyes’

This was a mistake.  Jim knew it was a mistake even as he let Ross guide him to a nearby cafe.  He was tired and his magical reserves were depleted.  He should go home and recharge, instead of being ushered to a table by a handsome stranger.  

“Is this okay?  We can sit inside, if you’d rather,” Ross asked, gesturing at the patio.  

“This is fine.”  Jim hesitated, but then took the chair Ross pulled out for him.  

Witches and focuses formed a bond whenever they worked together.  Weaving spells with someone was intimate, allowing an exchange of auras and emotions.  The more spells wrought, the stronger the bond grew.  It was the nature of magic to try and encourage these bonds, and the nature of humans to enjoy them.  So if Jim’s stomach fluttered when Ross gave him a warm smile, it meant nothing except they had worked a spell together a few minutes ago.  It would wear off soon enough.  

The waitress came over.  “What can I get for you?”

“A butterscotch frappe and a cinnamon streusel muffin,” Jim answered.  He waited for Ross to say something about it, but he didn’t care.  Right now he needed the calorie bomb, along with the jolt of sugar and caffeine.  Channeling that much magic was draining.  

Ross blinked, but instead of making a fat joke he said, “That sounds good.  I’ll have the same.”

That’s right.  Witches would have the same needs after a spell.  Jim was spending too much time around non-practitioners who always seemed to be dieting.  

“Oh, here.  You forgot this.”  Ross held out the bag Jim had dropped in the road.  “Sorry about the mess.”

Jim took it and sighed.  There was blood spattered on one side of the paper bag.  The redwood discs inside looked clean, but if there was any blood on them it might have weird effects if he used them.  He’d have to go back to the store to get more.  Meanwhile, he set the bag on the ground.  “It’s not your fault.”

“We didn’t properly meet, before.  I’m Ross Poldark.”  Ross held out his hand and gave a megawatt smile.  

“Jim Hawkins.”  Jim reached out, and when their hands touched a spark of magic flared between them.  He took his hand back.  “Sorry.  I have better control than this, usually.  It’s just that my reserves are empty.”

Ross shook his head.  “I don’t mind.”

The waitress came by with their order and set it down.  After making sure they had everything they needed, she drifted away to another table.  

“Are you from around here?” Ross asked.

Jim was grateful for the drink.  It gave him something to look at besides Ross.  He concentrated on trying to fold the whipped cream into the drink and replied, “Not really.  I’ve only been in town for a few months.”

“That explains why I haven’t seen you at any of the gatherings.”  Ross took a bite of his muffin.  

Solstice and Equinox, when magic users and more than a few non-practicing touristy types got together to exchange tips and make new contacts.  At least during the day.  After dark, things got rowdy.  

“It’s not really my thing,” Jim said with a shrug.  

“I’m sure you’d be popular.  We don’t often get new faces, much less an unbonded familiar.”  

As if Jim needed a reminder that most familiars were paired off by his age.  Scrolling through his social media feed, seeing all his old friends and classmates happy and successful was reminder enough.  He stirred his drink again and said, “I tried the bonding thing before.  It didn’t work out.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jim looked up at that.  Ross had lost his smile and looked sad, which was ridiculous.  They had just met.  Why would Ross care about a stranger’s relationship woes?  Unless he was faking the concern with an ulterior motive in mind.  Like he said, Jim was unbonded.  So was Ross, and they’d already proven they could work together for a complicated spell.  

Ross went on, “If you like, I’d be happy to escort you to the next gathering.  I know almost everyone.  I could introduce you, show you the ropes.”

And stake his claim on an available focus before anyone else had a chance.  He might as well pee on Jim’s leg to mark his territory.  No, thank you.

Jim stood up.  “Look, I appreciate the coffee, but whatever you’re trying to do here won’t work.”

Ross looked confused.  “I’m sorry, what?”

Jim waggled a hand back and forth between them.  “This is just from the spell.  It’ll be gone by tonight.  I’m unbonded because I don’t like working with people, and I don’t need a big, strong witch to take care of me.  Okay?”

Ross’ brows snapped down in an impressive scowl.  “I never suggested otherwise.”

“I am not going to sit around a kitchen, stirring potions until my witch decides he has a use for me.”  Jim realized his volume was increasing and he was starting to get strange looks from passers-by.  He lowered his voice to say, “So yeah, thanks for the coffee.  Goodbye.”

Ross tried to say something else.  Jim ignored it, grabbed his stained bag, and fled.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, kudos, and comments! 
> 
> As always, I am over at Tumblr. Feel free to leave a prompt, tell me about your headcanons, or just say hi! 
> 
> [ [My personal blog] ](http://myseri.tumblr.com/)  
> [[My writing blog]](http://saucywenchwritingblog.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	3. Chapter 3

The dulcet tinkling of bells woke Jim.  The flower fairies that lived in his garden enjoyed playing with his wind chimes in the morning before the day grew too warm.  Normally it would be soothing, a sign that all was right in the world, or at least on his property.  Today though, he felt like he had a hang over, and was sure that he was more tired now than he was before he slept. 

Burning through too much magic too quickly would do that.  It also explained why everything hurt.  His skin felt raw, his eyes were gritty, his mouth was dry, and every muscle felt overexerted.  He concentrated and reached for the reserve of magic he normally carried, but there was nothing.  It was still depleted from working the spell yesterday.  No wonder he felt like death.  It should have replenished somewhat in his sleep.  It must have taken more from him than he thought, for him to still feel so empty.

He didn’t regret it, though.  How could he, when it might have been the difference between life and death for that young man?  He could recharge his magic reserves.  That kid couldn’t grow another leg. 

Replaying the events of yesterday made Jim groan and press the heels of his hands over his eyes.  No, he didn’t regret helping with the spell, but he wished he could go back and change everything after that. 

Ross Poldark.  A handsome witch with a sunny smile and kind eyes.  A healer who was adept enough at weaving spells to be able to save an injured boy.  A person friendly enough to invite a stranger along to a Gathering and offer to introduce him to members of the community.

Jim could not have been more obnoxious to Ross if he intentionally tried.  Low blood sugar and depleted magic reserves could only excuse so much bad behavior.  The rest was all him.  He knew he had his issues, but Ross didn’t deserve to receive Jim’s vitriol.  Maybe next time he should just stand on the table and piss in Ross’s coffee cup. 

Not that there would ever be a next time.  He didn’t know how to reach Ross to offer some sort of apology.  Sure, he knew Ross’s full name, but looking up his address and then showing up on his doorstep sounded obsessive and stalkery.  Better to just let it go.  It’s not like they would ever see each other again, anyway. 

The wind chimes rang again, a little louder.  Jim usually put cream out in the mornings, and the fairies were getting impatient.  He was not foolish enough to make a deal with any Fae, even something as small as a flower fairy.  He considered it more of a mutually beneficial arrangement.  He would leave out bread and cream, along with the occasional treat.  In return, the fairies tended his garden.  They were fiercely territorial about the property and ran off pests.  They were attracted to magic, and magic flowed more freely in places they called home.  As a bonus, Jim thought they were cute, most of the time.  He saw them dispatch a pixie that was trying to raid the bird feeder one day.  It wasn’t pretty.  For something the size of a doll, a flower fairy could be vicious.

The high-pitched laughter outside the bedroom window had him finally getting out of bed.  Once he fed them, they would eat and then nap.  Maybe then he could go back to sleep. 

He shuffled to the kitchen and found a dandelion on the counter.  All the windows were shut tight and the doors were locked.  How did the fairies manage to keep getting in?  They were tiny.  It wasn’t like they could jimmy open a window.  At least they liked him and stayed out of the house, for the most part.  It could be a lot worse.  He didn’t see the culprit, but announced, “What a lovely flower!”  He wanted to stay on their good side, but it was a bad idea to thank them for anything.  Compliments usually worked.

A check of the fridge showed he had enough cream for today but needed to go to the store.  He was out of real butter, and they hated the fake stuff.  He had bagels and cream cheese, though.  They liked that.  He popped a blueberry bagel into the toaster before he started his coffee pot.  While he waited, he rummaged through a drawer until he found the little vial of sparkly powder the fairies left for him a few weeks ago.  He didn’t know exactly what it was, but the fairy who deigned to talk to him called it pixie dust.  He didn’t want to think about that too closely, but whatever it was made from, it was concentrated magic.  A dash in his coffee would help him more than any pain killers.  He sprinkled a bit into his cup and watched the coffee flash gold before it dissolved, then took a few sips.

By the time he was done slathering the toasted bagel with a thick layer of cream cheese, his headache was feeling better.  He gathered up the bagel, cream, and his coffee, and headed to the picnic table in the back yard.  He set the bagel and cream at one end and took a seat at the other. 

In the few months he had lived here, this had become something of a tradition.  He’d sit at one end sipping his coffee while the fairies ate breakfast.  Sometimes he’d talk to them about whatever was on his mind – his plans for the day, ideas for the house, idle chatter.  The older ones made a show of ignoring him, but the young ones enjoyed it.  At least he thought they were young – they were smaller and hyper, but it is impossible to tell with a Fae.

He took a sip of his coffee and rested his elbows on the table.  After a few minutes, the fairies started to gather.  If he didn’t know any better, it would be easy to mistake them for hummingbirds.  One zoomed by his face in a blur before landing on the table.  Once they settled down, Jim counted them.  There were seven today.  Some days there were as many as a dozen, while other times there were as few as four.  He didn’t know if they were all the same fairies from day to day, since hair colors and skin tones would change.  Some days they would be glittering jewel colors, and other days they were all soft pastels.  Maybe it was a flower fairy thing, to change colors like that.  The only one he recognized was a male with greenish skin and a shock of purple hair.  He was the self-appointed spokesman for the group.  Spokesfairy.  Whatever.  Jim had nicknamed him Berry, since no Fae would ever offer a real name.

They ate, and Jim drank his coffee.  They spoke to each other, but it was nothing more than buzzing to Jim’s human ears.  He waited until they were close to done, and then sat his coffee cup on the table and said, “I’m thinking of getting a few herbs for the garden.”

The fairies froze.  They looked at each other, then at Jim.  Jim knew they would be interested in this.  They considered it their garden too, after all.  That’s why he brought it up now.  If he went and started digging around with no warning, they might take it badly.  The last thing he wanted was an angry fairy swarm.   

He pointedly did not look at them as he said, “I think a rosemary plant would be nice beside the back steps.  Some sage and chamomile would be handy, too.”

The fairies relaxed and went back to eating, once they figured out he was not going to do anything crazy.  Berry got up and walked to Jim’s cup.  He kicked it and looked in, watching the iridescent sheen from the pixie dust swirl and settle.  He gave Jim a questioning look.  He could speak English and had done so in the past, but he had to shout for Jim to hear him clearly and preferred not to have to do it.  He could have sat on Jim’s shoulder, but fairies were omnivorous.  Jim didn’t trust them to realize that humans were not on the menu.  

Jim rarely used the pixie dust, so he figured that was what Berry was asking.  He shrugged and explained, “I worked a complicated healing spell with a witch yesterday.  I needed a boost.”

Berry gave him an unimpressed look before wandering back over to the remnants of the bagel.  He dug a blueberry from the bagel and chewed on it while another fairy played with his hair. 

Jim finished his coffee, thinking about yesterday.  Since his redwood discs were ruined, he’d need to pick up another batch of blanks.  He’d have to find another store, though.  The herb shop he normally used wouldn’t get more in stock for a while.  The internet should be able to point him in the right direction. 

He rose and bid the fairies good day, which they ignored as usual.  He rinsed his cup in the sink before heading to get dressed.  The laced coffee had helped, and he felt better now.  He wasn’t up to working any magic, but he could handle a quick trip to the store.

Maybe, while he was shopping, he could ask around and see where the next Gathering was being held.  It couldn’t hurt to get to know a few people in the local community.  Maybe he’d get the chance to apologize to Ross, too.  Better to stay on karma’s good side, after all. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, kudos, and comments! 
> 
> As always, I am over at Tumblr. Feel free to leave a prompt, tell me about your headcanons, or just say hi! 
> 
> [ [My personal blog] ](http://myseri.tumblr.com/)  
> [[My writing blog]](http://saucywenchwritingblog.tumblr.com/)  
> 


End file.
